


sorry about the blood in your mouth (I wish it was mine)

by peachypunk



Series: but damn if there isn't anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Billy Hargrove Being Gross, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Kinda?, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, the boys are fiesty, the mafia au that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachypunk/pseuds/peachypunk
Summary: Steve really just wanted a smoke break.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: but damn if there isn't anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885912
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132





	sorry about the blood in your mouth (I wish it was mine)

**Author's Note:**

> a kind of continuation from falling forward, but you don't need to read that for this to make sense

Steve throws the last of the trash bags in the dumpster and huffs. He shivers a little at the wind. Chicago weather is insidious, the wind and cold always managing to find you even in a tiny alleyway behind a row of restaurants. Steve wipes his hands on the black apron tied around his waist and rolls his shoulders, debating whether he should have a smoke or just try to head home early. 

It was almost the end of his shift, had already taken a double earlier this week for the extra cash, and his manager liked him enough to look the other way when he took too many smoke breaks or broke a glass or came in late, still clothed in the ridiculous uniform the ice cream place made him wear and had to change into his waiter clothes in the bathroom. He deserved a final smoke break before he headed back in, at least.

Suddenly, a warm, heavy presence against his back has him snapping out of his own head. A spike of fear stabs through his gut as the body shoves him towards the wall, face so close to the brick, he can feel the cold emanating from it.

“Don’t move,” A low voice threatens in his ear and Steve freezes for a second, heart racing wildly, before he grits his teeth and shoves his elbow back, catching the fucker in the nose. He’s not about to let himself be mugged. Especially not today. The guy stumbles back and, quick as lightning, Steve has the guy up against the opposite wall, his pocket knife to the man’s throat as he blinks at him.

Billy blinks back, laughing breathlessly as blood drips from his nose to his mouth, staining his teeth. 

“ _Billy_?” Steve asks, eyes bright and wide.

“Still got that knife I bought you,” Billy says, head tilted back with a smug smile, as Steve just stares at him, panting, fingers still pressing cold steel against the smooth column of Billy’s neck. 

“What the _fuck_?!” Steve shoves him into the brick hard and takes a stumbling step back, sheathing the knife and shoving it back in his pocket with shaky hands.

“What, are you stalking me now?” Steve bites out.

“Don’t flatter yourself, princess” Billy drawls and spits blood onto the ground before he wipes haphazardly at his nose with a sleeve of his jacket. “It’s not like that.” He sniffs, peeling himself off the wall.

“I swear to god, if you have someone tailing me-”

“I  _ said _ it’s not like that,” Billy says, cold and abrupt, before he rolls his shoulders, “Now would you  _ chill _ before your squawking scares off my new business deal?” 

“Oh, because I care  _ so much _ about your business deal,” Steve intones sarcastically, watching as Billy lights a cigarette and swipes at the blood on his face again. He should leave. He should turn on his heel right now and walk away from Billy and everything that comes with him. But for some reason, he can’t get his feet to move.

Billy raises an eyebrow as he exhales a ring of smoke and offers him the carton. Steve’s own pack of cigarettes is burning a hole in his front pocket, but he’s all flush and high from adrenaline and Billy still looks so pretty, even when he’s bloodstained, and Steve has always been good at making bad decisions. 

He takes one.

“Why’d you jump me like that?” Steve can’t help but ask, fishing his lighter out of his pocket. Billy regards him for a second and then spits blood again. 

“You’re fun to rile up,” He says, giving Steve an intense look, “Always have been.” They stare at each other for a charged moment, air thick with tension around them, before Steve looks away.

“Whatever, jackass.” He mutters and ducks his head to light his cigarette. He leans against the brick, close enough to Billy that he could reach out and touch. If he wanted to.

“Wanted to know if you could still defend yourself,” Billy says, tilting his head, “Now that we don’t train together anymore.”

Steve scoffs. The smoke is bitter on his tongue. He fucking hates Reds.

“Is that what you want Hargrove? A  _ sparring _ buddy?” Steve shakes his head, blowing smoke out harshly. He doesn’t know when he’d gotten so angry, but it’s under his skin now, like Billy’s stupid smirk or the way he looks at Steve like he  _ knows _ something Steve doesn’t know. 

“Pretty sure we did more than sparring,” Billy gives him a too obvious once over, shifting closer as he runs his tongue over his teeth, and Steve blames the way he shivers on the cold. He shakes his head.

“Jesus, you haven’t changed a bit,” Steve says, eyes flicking over Billy’s body, the way he’s leaned in so close, the way his cigarette burns bright red. His nose has stopped bleeding. Steve probably didn't hit him hard enough to even leave a bruise. Whatever.

"Always looking for a fight or a fuck. Anything to get your hands dirty.” Steve says, taking another drag off of his cigarette. Billy watches the way his lips purse around it, cheeks hollowing slightly as he inhales.

“My hands are pretty clean these days,” Billy says, low and measured and there’s something like a challenge concealed in it that just stokes the fire in Steve even more. Steve leans towards him, watching Billy watch him with dark eyes. Steve tilts his head and then blows smoke into Billy’s face. 

“Maybe you should change that,” Steve challenges, delighted by the way Billy’s face grows dark and scrunches up his nose unpleasantly. 

For a second, there’s deafening silence between them, and Steve is pretty sure he’s played the wrong hand. It’s a flip of a coin with Billy, but Steve can read it in Billy’s face and the way his hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides. He’s about to get decked.

“Okay,” Billy says, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the side before he drops to his knees. Steve nearly trips over his shoes as he stumbles back, back hitting the brick wall hard and eyes wide as Billy shoves his apron out of the way and makes quick work of his belt.

His cock is already well on its way to fully hard by the time Billy tugs his work slacks down and palms over the fabric of his boxer briefs. Steve swallows hard, dick twitching under Billy’s warm palm as he looks up at him, amusement swimming in his blue eyes.

“And here I thought you were playing hard to get, pretty boy,” Billy says, hand gripping Steve just this side of too tight, making him grunt and shiver, “But you look pretty hard up for it to me.” 

Steve breathes out harshly, stomach tightening in anticipation as Billy leans in and mouths at him, warm and teasing, through the fabric, nosing at the outline of his cock. Steve raises his cigarette to his lips with a jittery hand as Billy hums and tugs his underwear down just enough to get his cock out. Steve takes a long drag before he tosses it away blindly. 

“Been a while,” Billy says, glancing up at him as he wraps his hand around Steve’s length. Steve blows the smoke out shakily and nods, heart racing. There’s a dangerous glint in Billy’s eye that can only mean trouble and Steve hates the way it just makes his dick throb.

Billy spits into his other palm, the sound loud and dirty in the empty alleyway and it makes the back of Steve’s neck hot. His eyes flutter shut as the wet palm closes around him and starts to stroke, slowly at first, just enough to light a fire in his groin and make him want to rut into Billy’s hand.

“Stevie,” Billy says and Steve blinks his eyes open. Billy is watching him expectantly, like he’s waiting for something, but all Steve can do is stare down at him, watching Billy fist his cock with hooded eyes.

Billy looks away, annoyed, and mumbles something under his breath before he pins Steve against the brick with a hand and swipes his tongue over the head, making Steve’s hips jerk in his grasp. Billy gives him a smirk and draws back a bit to spit directly onto his cock, making heat jump down Steve’s spine in a filthy hot slide. 

Billy’s mouth around him is warm and wet and messy, punching a moan out of Steve as he starts to bob his head, fingers still digging into Steve’s hip as a warning. Steve lets his head fall back as he pants, world shrinking to the lovely heat of Billy’s mouth and tongue, as he stuffs a fist in his mouth to keep quiet.

Billy takes him even deeper and Steve whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut before glancing down his body to where Billy’s lips are stretched around his cock, cheeks hollowed and taking him down so well. Billy looks up at him through his lashes and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. It’s unfair how good he is at this, still knows exactly what Steve likes and what drives him crazy. 

Billy pulls off a bit, hand continuing to stroke as he swirls his tongue against the underside of Steve’s dick and flicks at the head, making Steve’s hips stutter as he moans, muffled, into his fist and shoves his other hand into soft, blonde curls. Billy lets out a satisfied hum and takes him deep again, sending sparks up Steve’s spine.

Steve’s legs start to shake and he’s grateful for the wall behind him supporting his weight as Billy works him over, every curl of his tongue and flick of his wrist making Steve’s toes curl and tighten his grip on Billy’s hair. 

“Oh fuck, Billy,” He groans as heat starts to coil low in his belly, already close to the edge after just a few minutes, and Billy pulls off of him with a wet pop. Steve’s hips buck wildly, trying to follow, as he keens high in his throat.

Billy shoves him to the wall with both hands, pinning the hand that was in his hair to Steve’s thigh as Steve squirms, dick heavy and straining for release. Billy swallows hard and licks over his swollen lips.

“How’s your boyfriend, Harrington?” He asks, voice rough, and the words try to penetrate Steve’s foggy brain.

“What?” Steve pants out, frustrated and staring down at him with wide, dark eyes.

“Your boyfriend,” Billy repeats, voice like raked over coals, but still manages to sound unimpressed, “Daniel or David or whoever.”

Steve blinks down at him, uncomprehendingly, and then shakes his head, still breathing hard. “He isn’t- we weren’t-” He manages to get out. 

A ghost of a smile flashes across Billy’s face and then he’s standing up, fingertips trailing up Steve’s ribs before he steps away with a smug grin. Steve stares at him incredulously.

“I gotta go,” He says, dusting off his clothes, “Business deal,” Billy claps him on the shoulder and turns away.

“Are you serious?!” Steve hisses at him and Billy shrugs, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“I owe you one,” He throws over his shoulder and Steve can see the cocky grin on his stupid face before he saunters away.

Steve curses under his breath even as he takes his dick in his hand, lasting only a few strokes before he spills, unsatisfying and sticky, into his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if you liked! I have lot of things in mind for this verse with much more mafia/danger vibes than this-i just couldn't get this scene out of my head.
> 
> come say hi on tumblr @peachypunk22


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